


Good Teacher

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Phasma praises Kylo.





	

“You’re good at that, you know.” Phasma says it as lightly as she can, so he doesn’t think she’s being insincere. If he’s praised too intently, he baulks.   


It’s such a pity, because he obviously wants the reassurance, but his insecurity means he won’t accept it if he thinks it’s too intense. He sees it as a lie, or as misguided. 

“I had a good teacher.”  


Or that. He defers the praise onto someone else, unable to acknowledge he’s earned it.

“Oh? Who is this mystical teaching woman? Who do I need to kill?”  


“You know who I mean,” he says, head lowering as his fingers tease her darker curls.  


She’s sticky, full, and sloppy. After an extended period with those long fingers, then his wonderful tongue, he’d finished her up with a fucking so sharp and sure that her thighs still throb. The warmth spreads through her whole lower body, up and into her core, making her feel languid and content.

“Do I?”  


“She’s deadly. Really strong. Really powerful. She could kick my ass if she wanted.”  


Phasma smiles at the compliment, and then moans as his long fingers stroke the outside of her lips. She’s not sure there’s any climaxes left in her body, but it’s still enjoyable to be touched there. “Well… perhaps I should thank her. Because she’s made you into a sex machine.”

Kylo snorts, and glances just lightly at her clit. It’s almost too much, and she hisses. His fingers stroke around it, avoiding over-stimulation, and she pushes her forehead to his.

“Yes… sh-she made you… oh… know just where to touch, and how long. Because… when I used to touch myself, it would just be to get there, as quickly as possible. You… get me there over, and over, and make it last so long my whole body aches with it…”  


She hasn’t really been with others. A few things, here and there, satisfying enough, but nothing like the screaming, hair-pullingly good sensations Kylo is capable of finding in her. She had never thought her body capable of such bliss before him, and although he’s never outright said it, she knows he’s not really had other lovers, too. 

In fact, she suspects he’s had far less (if any), and so his attentiveness and skill are… possibly the Force? Or just that he cares so much? Whatever reason, he makes her body do tricks she didn’t know it could do. Like now, when he dips a finger into the combined juices of their lovemaking, pushing it inside her swollen, still-throbbing hole. He strokes around her entrance, bending his middle finger and massaging her internally. It’s intimate and lovely, and although she could never climax from a finger alone inside her, it still feels _incredible_.

“Well… she is so beautiful I could barely keep my eyes off her, or my hands. My tongue. My… dick.”  


He’s spent, and he won’t get up again, not after how roughly they fucked. She’s heard the jokes about men just rolling over and leaving their lovers unsatisfied once they’ve achieved orgasm, but Kylo doesn’t see it as the end. He doesn’t see it as the end until they’re both sleepy and dreamy. In fact, he’ll often keep up the contact until she starts to slip from consciousness from the touches, floating into satisfied dreams. 

Two fingers, and they part. It’s not like his shaft, but it doesn’t need to be. She grinds down on them, and he turns so the heel of his palm rests on her mound, giving her something to work against. 

“R-right there,” she moans, and clutches at his hair. “Your hand… I love when you touch me.”  


His fingers start to work her firmly, and the heel is enough pressure for her to rub against, and she’s not sure she can climax again, but it feels so good that she can’t resist the attempt. His digits must be drenched in her wetness, and his ejaculate. The end result of their mutual lust, and the idea of it being swirled around inside of her does things. Good things. 

Deep inside, and her body moves to accommodate, stretching as more fingers enter, and spread. Twisting, turning, churning. She whimpers, her face buried into his neck, and one heel drumming the bed rhythmically. 

“T-there…”  


“You think you can take it?” he asks, in a voice coloured with his own, distant hunger.  


“Not sure… want to try.”  


He kisses at her cheek, and she flushes with her desire, clutching his hair. 

“So good, love,” she moans. “So good. Oh, you… I…”  


His thumb on her nub, and it pinches down as his fingers clasp towards it, spreading her so wide she feels she’ll gush all over the bed again. The pressure is just the right side of painful, and when his thumb works her, she calls out in bliss. He doesn’t stop, slamming his digits inside, making her stomach tense as the climax washes through her. The fluid feeling of their earlier coupling increases, and Phasma bites his shoulder to cope with the sensations.

He doesn’t stop then, but he slows. Slows, and doesn’t just pull out and leave her gapingly open and lost. 

Phasma notches teeth into her lip, and sighs. “See. Really good. Really, really…” It’s not as eloquent as she wants, but her body is pulling her away from her mind.

“Could be better.”  


“Drill,” she muses. “Practice. Over and over…”  


“Under your supervision, I’ll get there.”  


And so will she. Over. And over. And over. She snuggles into him, and lets her mind float on the pleasure. He’s way, way too good already. With practice, she’s going to lose her mind.


End file.
